


Freedom in Death

by Consort of the Moribund (Inksinger), Coyote Grins (Inksinger), Inksinger



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Afterlife, Character Death, Deities, In which the forgone conclusion is terrible in its sweetness, M/M, Mild Gore, Near Future, World of Warcraft: Legion Spoilers, and the happy ending is one nobody asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 08:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13877418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inksinger/pseuds/Consort%20of%20the%20Moribund, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inksinger/pseuds/Coyote%20Grins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inksinger/pseuds/Inksinger
Summary: Death comes to all things in their time. It is what comes after that's left undetermined.





	Freedom in Death

When death came at last upon them, they were not prepared - for who would think to find their ending surrounded by the innocent and helpless?

Who would think to find their breaking in their own nobility?

Thassarian was the first to fall, as he had been in the beginning of their nightmare. Down, down upon his knees he fell, left at the mercy of those who spat upon it. There were just too many, their arms too mighty, their fury too great.

The deathblow was manifold - the falling of many blades and clubs upon his body, through the gaps and great rends in his armor to pierce unliving flesh and shatter age-dry bones. He was dead with the first collective strike, yet his executioners raised their weapons and struck again, and again, and yet again, pummeling the broken body until it had been torn to bloody pieces and strewn about the area. The head they severed first of all; the head they crushed when all else had been shattered, destroying all of him that had been.

He would never rise again.

-

There are songs and stories, still, of the great, howling shriek of Koltira Deathweaver. Of the fury with which he fell upon the murderers, of the madness his agony induced in him.

Many claim he wept that day. Many say, also, that his weeping ceased only as he fell, pierced through by several blades and dashed upon the ruined soil even ere his weapon slid from his dying hands.

In all the songs, Koltira sings, or laughs, or reaches out towards the smoke-stained sky above before he passes. In all the songs he passes gently on the broken earth, left to lie in peace as his sorrow touches every heart around him.

In truth: Koltira simply smiled, and breathed his lover's name a final time as a great war hammer descended upon his skull.

-

And darkness came upon them.

And blinded and made feral by the suffering they do not deserve, still they find each other. Still they cling to each other, and all the forces of their special, godless hell cannot take them from each other even now.

-

And in the place where there is no time or suffering, the Many see them, and convene.

Haven't they suffered enough? One of the Many whispers. Have they not given everything and more?

They sought only ever love, Another sighs. See how their bond is yet unbroken. They cling to it, even after all the horrors they have faced.

Horrors they committed, a harsh One snips. Their voice is echoed by a fraction of the Many.

Horrors they were forced once to commit, One murmurs and is echoed in Their turn. Horrors they committed then in defense of the unborn Titan and Her children.

Such noble children, even unto death and torment - do they not deserve their gentle epilogue? One speaks out above the Others, and Their voice is warm and gentle. Shall we not give them this little thing, at least?

The Many hesitate as one, and thought and feeling melds into a stream of consciousness beyond all mortal ken.

Then, in time that is without time, the Last of Them, the warm-voiced One, smiles to Themself and reaches out.

I will take them, They murmur as the Many disperse.

I will bring them freedom.


End file.
